


Bonney

by sasha_b



Series: Live By The Sword [54]
Category: King Arthur (2004), Original Work
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor, Language, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14575152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: Lance and Arthur ride to the beach.





	Bonney

**Author's Note:**

> This is set (I think) right before or right after **Sex and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance**. It's pretty fluffy for this verse, and I'm happy about that (see notes after this story for more explanation).
> 
> Arthur and Lance are both still in college here, and living together in their apartment near the school.

“Fuck, no.”

Arthur’s face in reaction to that statement was comical, but Lance wasn’t changing his mind. It was a beautiful, sunny southern California Saturday afternoon, the trees blowing gently, sun streaking through the leaves, living green painted gold and yellow and shining white. The first front of the season had finally arrived, and combined with the dappled light, the day couldn’t have been more perfect. Lance smiled brightly, white teeth rivaling the sun, and leaned against his Thunderbird, the car warm through the material of his skinny jeans. Arthur frowned more deeply and revved the engine of the bike again, the wheels scooting forward just a bit more than he wanted them to.

“Lance, come on. It’s gorgeous today, and I have an extra helmet, look.” He held the thing up and Lance scoffed out loud at the sight of it, sleek black design basic and sporting the Triumph logo. He recrossed his arms and shook his head, one eyebrow arching imperially, something he was oh so good at. “As I said before, fuck, no. I am not getting on that thing with or without you. I am certainly not smashing my hair flat with a helmet, and since there’s a law in this city…” he pushed off the Thunderbird with his butt and walked to where Arthur was still revving the engine of the bike. He smiled again, a nasty, cocky smile that hurt his mouth but still he kept on, touching the chrome of the bike’s gas tank and letting his fingers trail extra close to Arthur’s crotch. “Don’t we have some studying to do?”

He looked down and then up at Arthur through his lashes. The other man slowly shook his head as well, setting the helmet down _over_ his crotch and snatching up Lance’s hand before it played haywire with his brain. Birds screamed in the air above them; they could hear the traffic from the 5 and Arthur was suddenly laughing.

“Are you kidding me?” He pressed his lips to the slowly thudding pulse at Lancelot’s wrist and then tugged the hand to lie at his waist. “I am an excellent driver. I can take you to the beach. We can weave through whatever traffic there is. You can feel the wind in your damn perfect hair,” he touched one of the curls that hung at Lance’s right earlobe, smiling more broadly as Lance jerked away, “and I will kiss that stupid frown off your extremely nice mouth.”

Lance narrowed his gaze, and then glanced from Arthur’s face to the bike, then to Arthur again. He took one step closer, then two, then suddenly swung his left leg behind Arthur and slid onto the seat, the bike dipping slightly with their combined weight. He settled his boots on the bars behind the peddles and sat up, getting his balance, right hand still resting lightly on Arthur’s waist. He tugged the sleeves of his Burberry sweater down over his forearms; the wind from their speed would surely be colder than just standing still. And fuck, what was he thinking, riding on this thing?

The sun blasted the back of his head, his longish hair flipping with the wind, and he closed his eyes, smelling the ocean and feeling the salt between his toes. Yeah, that might be worth the fear of learning to ride a motorcycle. Maybe.

He leaned forward and slipped both arms around Arthur’s torso, hands gripping at Arthur’s ribs momentarily, the other man’s tightly fitting shirt and light jacket making it easy for Lance to feel the muscles and bones he already knew by heart. He pressed his chest to Arthur’s back and let his face fall into the join of Arthur’s jaw and neck, inhaling deeply, the scent of Arthur mixed with oil and metal and sun and grass and the imagined ocean, so close. He pressed harder and gripped more tightly and sucked in a breath, holding it – his head spun and Arthur had to say his name twice before he blew out the breath and opened his eyes. His hands trembled but he locked them together over Arthur’s stomach, forcing the shaking to stop.

The sun was still shining, and Arthur was craning his neck to look at Lance, eyes creased at the corners, a loud Mustang without a muffler shooting past them on the bike, making it rock slightly. Lance squeezed at Arthur’s thighs with his own and the heat that radiated from Arthur warmed him as it always did, baking from the inside out, cookies in a fucking oven that he never needed to shut off. He smiled tremulously at Arthur and rolled his lips inward before shoving forward, Arthur’s body solid enough to take the extra weight.

Lancelot pressed his lips first to Arthur’s stubbled jaw and then to his mouth, or what he could reach of it until Arthur turned further around and allowed Lance a better purchase.

The bike rumbled and Arthur’s back popped as he twisted to get into a better angle – Lance murmured his name against Arthur’s lips and he almost let go of the bike, but considering the amount of money he had in it and the fact that Lance didn’t have his feet on the ground kept him from completely losing control of his faculties.

Arthur’s eyes fluttered shut briefly but popped open when Lance _bit_ him, hard, and he lifted one hand to push the other man away or to drag him closer but Lance let go of Arthur’s lips and leaned back, his hands moving to rest on Arthur’s waist, self satisfied smirk turning the corners of his mobile mouth upward into a real smile that had Arthur grinning as well. He gunned the engine and Lance only blanched a bit.

“Beach? We can take off our shoes when we get there.”

“Oh yeah. And get some ice cream. Please tell me we can get some ice cream?”

Arthur snorted a small laugh and turned around to face front. “We can.” He knocked the kickstand up with the heel of his boot and shouted _ready?_ feeling Lance nodding his head. “Hold on,” he said unnecessarily, and without a thought they were out on the street, the Bonneville roaring perfectly underneath them. He felt Lance’s hold on his ribs tighten enough to crack, but he merely laughed again and brushed fingers over Lance’s as they came to a brief stop at a cross-street, taking a few seconds to put his helmet on, passing the other one to Lance, even though he could imagine him grumbling.

Sun and wind and surf and the new bike and Lance holding on to him, familiar slender body anchored to Arthur’s the way he always dreamed of it. No school and no studying and no families and

“I feel like I’m flying!”

Lance shouted the words into Arthur’s helmet covered ear, and laughed brightly, his fingers digging into Arthur’s thighs.

“Me too!”

A bone deep ache grew in Arthur’s middle, a mix of melancholia and love that threatened to choke him.

*

Lance wobbled when he rose off the back of the bike when Arthur parked it, his legs feeling like they had the one time he’d been horseback riding. He bent over and stretched, his hips creaking, his hands going for the helmet, jerking it off, the cool wind on his face a burst of energy better than any coffee drink. He handed Arthur the helmet and watched the other man lock the two of them to the bike, smiling a tiny smile as the other man walked around the Bonney, checking it for whatever Arthur thought might be wrong. A few people passed them by in wetsuits, carrying surfboards and taking advantage of the high waves that had come with the front.

“It’s fine, Arthur. Fuck, that was amazing. And yet I don’t really want to do it again.” Lance scrubbed a slightly shaking hand through his hair and stepped up to where Arthur was rubbing at a non-existent spot on the bike’s gas tank. “I _really_ deserve ice cream after that. And didn’t you say something about kissing the – ”

Arthur straightened and turned to him, snatching at the back of Lance’s neck, winding his fingers in the longish hair there, his mouth catching Lance’s – Lance let out a comical _oof_ but quickly allowed the other man his way, Arthur actually pushing Lance against the bike, his back bending slightly, Arthur’s free hand slipping to cup at Lance’s right butt cheek.

Which made Lance laugh, but Arthur wasn’t having anything except for the kissing, and Lance went with that too after a moment of trying to balance against the sleek machine they’d just ridden on.

Sun, wind, the sound of surf, cool temperatures, heat and touch and smell from Arthur and Lance finally pushed him away, smiling a soporific smile that he had to touch to convince himself was real. He could feel the heaviness of his lips, the way they always felt after Arthur had kissed him, and he dragged a pointer over them before touching Arthur’s lips with the same finger.

“Shit,” he barked another laugh. “I am still smiling, Arthur. What was that about – ” and again Arthur brushed lips against his own, Lance cracking a huge grin and shoving at Arthur’s chest. “Okay, okay! Jesus. I give up,” he pecked at the bridge of Arthur’s nose, which was crooked from the time Lance had broken it. He shook his head and pulled back, the wind tossing his hair into his eyes. The crash of the waves and the odor from the sand was enticing –

“Didn’t you say something about ‘fuck, no’?” Arthur cocked a regal brow and crossed his arms over his jacket, the black material moving with the motion. There were some times Lance couldn’t believe he’d waited as long as he had to love this man, and other days when he felt as though _they_ had been for as long as forever. He blinked and leaned over, kissing Arthur’s bicep through the fabric of the jacket.

“I change my mind. Sort of. Now let’s get ice cream,” Lance answered and taking Arthur’s hand, lead the other man away from the motorcycle parking and toward the beach. He stopped at the edge of the walk that twisted down to the ocean and took his boots off, leaving them underneath the start of the thing, Arthur doing the same after Lance sighed and pointed at his feet.

“No one will take them. If they do, I’ll buy us new ones. Come on,” he said, bouncing like a child, eyes squinting from the sun and pure happiness. “Let’s go have some sugar and then run around like crazies.”

He tried not to suck down the chocolate mint too fast, but it was impossible not to and after forcing Arthur to race him up and down the packed sand at the water’s edge, Lance finally collapsed to his ass, leaning his back against a log and splaying his long toes out. He sighed contentedly as Arthur sat next to him – having to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he watched Arthur turn his head to check on his bike.

“You love that thing more than me, don’t you?” Lance tossed the comment off like the waves they were watching, ebbing and flowing easily and quietly but he licked his lips and turned back to the ocean, wondering as he always did why things were so _good_ right now and just when they wouldn’t be. He smiled blankly and ran hands over his legs, raising his knees and winding his fingers together, the chill of sitting still getting to him and the wind blowing through his expensive sweater. He looked over at Arthur and shrugged when the other man crunched his eyebrows together and sighed.

The sun sparked off Arthur’s hair and the multi colors fascinated Lance as they always did; he reached up and fingered a loose curl that was twisted by Arthur’s right eye. “You need a haircut,” he teased, and leaned over to kiss the frown off Arthur’s face (his turn; why not) but Arthur took Lance’s face in his left hand and held his chin up so Lance couldn’t finish the kiss he’d been going for.

“Why do you say stuff like that?”

“I was just kidding, Arthur.”

“I don’t think so,” Arthur sighed again. He let go of Lance’s face and felt his stomach lurch, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, the noise of the surfers going back up the boardwalk distracting him briefly.

“Somebody told me once ‘we accept the love we think we deserve.’ Lancelot, I have known you forever. Or it seems like it,” he smiled gently and touched Lance’s upper lip with a pointer finger. “And it feels as though I’ve loved you forever. That won’t ever change. We are – ” he paused, turning his head and watching the sun sink toward the horizon, a great flat disc that reflected the water and the sand and every color he could see on the beach. “We’re us.”

He looked at Lance who was watching him, eyes wide and dark, thick lashes shading them, the darkness under his eyes black and bruised and painful looking.

“You think?” Lancelot hesitated, looking down, tugging at the tears in his jeans over his knees, his gaze moving to the waves that slammed back and forth and the surfers that tried to conquer them. Sun sparkled and forced him to lift a hand and shade his eyes, his hair blowing, the curls damp and wild from the moist air. He licked dry lips and wondered at the strange turn his life had taken.

"I do," Arthur answered him, and raising his knees, he lay his head over on his crossed arms and Lance turned and met his eyes.  The cool air blew and Lance took up Arthur's left hand and wound their fingers together, his a little sticky still from the ice cream.  He leaned over and lay his temple against Arthur's, the other man sighing and smiling and saying his name, a small thing that sounded like _Arthur_ , a thing that wrapped around Lance and took him to a place where they could be happy, forever and ever.

"Amen," he whispered, and Arthur gave him a strange look, but Lance squeezed his hand and watched the waves beat the shore into submission.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no clear memory of writing this. I just happened to find it in an old file of Sword fic, and wanted to post it as it belongs as kind of a side AU to the AU. :) Rereading it, it's kind of a reworking of **Sex and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance** and I'm having trouble figuring out where it would fit in the timeline. Just go with it. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who's read any of this series. Lance and Arthur appreciate you.


End file.
